


If You Want to Live

by reachfortheschuyler



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kidnapping, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-25 12:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachfortheschuyler/pseuds/reachfortheschuyler
Summary: "Love is not weakness, until it's used against you." Regina becomes the target of one of Robin's old enemies, and now it's a race against time to see who can save the other first.Written for OQ August Angst Fest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts 20 (Stabbing, shooting, kidnapping) and 25 (Are you even listening to me?)
> 
> It's gonna get dramatic, folks.

 

Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness.

It was a mantra that spilled from Mother’s lips from the moment Regina could understand words. 

_ Love is weakness. Don’t be weak, you foolish girl. You are going to be queen one day. Queens cannot be weak.  _

If love is weakness, does that mean hate is strength? Is anger more empowering than the wholeness that stems from a gentle touch or a soft kiss?

For years, she thought so.

After hearts were pummelled to dust on day-old hay in a weather-worn stable, yes, she thought love was weakness. After her wedding night, and so many painful nights after, when choice was taken and duty imposed, yes, she thought love was weakness. After a curse was cast and a crushed heart left a gaping hole in hers, yes, she thought love was weakness. After the sole light in her life was dimmed by the words “adoption” and “biology,” after a “real” mom was dragged into her world and turned it on its axis, yes, she thought love was weakness. After a line was crossed and gentle fingers slipped from her grasp for the last time, yes, she thought love was weakness.

Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness.

But love can be good. And love can be pure. And love can be a saving grace in a world threatening to collapse on itself.

Memories restored. A mother’s love. A kiss to the forehead.

Only true love can break a curse, and breaking things requires strength.

Love is strength. Love is better. There is no room for anger when love sits at the table. And maybe Mother was wrong. Mother  _ has  _ to be wrong. No one with love so pure can be weak. Love hard won from a son destined to be hers. Love which once seemed impossible from a stepdaughter long returned to her. Love lost and found, and lost and found again, from a soulmate stitched to her heart at the seams.

Love is good.

Love is pure.

Love is strength.

It is not weakness.

Until it’s used against you.

* * *

 

Robin’s arm is warm around Regina’s waist as they walk into the Rabbit Hole. It’s busy, unsurprising for a Friday, and they have to worm and weave their way through the crowd to reach the bar and the man tending to it. Robin pulls Regina in front of him, wrapping an arm around her hips as she leans on the bar and orders drinks for both of them.

“I don’t see Will anywhere,” she says, hair snagging a bit in Robin’s beard as she looks from side to side.

“He’s either late or drunk under a table already,” Robin replies, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder. He owes the designer of her tight little strapless number a million gratitudes for crafting a dress that allows him to peruse and touch and revel in all the skin Regina has deigned to show off tonight.

“Wouldn’t be surprised at either,” Regina snorts as the bartender hands her their drinks. 

“I’m surprised he agreed to come out with us. He’s been so mopey lately,” Robin comments, taking his whiskey from her.

“He said he wants to try to- I believe his exact words were- ‘start chasing tail again,’” Regina says with an eye roll, sipping wine the same color as her lipstick. She spins around so she’s facing him, resting her back against the bar. “Guess he’s finally ready to bounce back from Belle.”

Robin nods and leans in close, his mouth just by her ear. “Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?”

A coy smile curls across her lips as she runs a finger down the middle of his shirt. “You may have mentioned it,” she purrs. “I had a bit of a time getting dressed, though.”

“Did you now?” Robin murmurs, brushing his lips over the apple of her cheek.

“Mmhmm,” Regina hums, moving a hand up to card through his hair. “Because this dress is awfully tight, you know. And I just couldn’t find any underwear to wear that didn’t show.”

Robin swallows as heat surges through his veins. “You mean, you’re not-”

“Wearing any?” Regina finishes, raising an eyebrow. She tilts her head until her lips ghost against the shell of his ear. “Nope,” she breathes.

Robin groans and drops his forehead to her shoulder, hand squeezing her hip and feeling the smoothness of her bare skin beneath the fabric of her dress. “You shouldn’t have told me that,” he rasps against her neck. “Because now all I’m going to be thinking about is taking you right here on this bar in front of everyone.”

Regina inhales sharply, grip tightening in his hair. “If Will doesn’t show in the next five minutes, we’re going home and you’re going to fuck me until I-”

“Excuse me!”

Leroy’s gruff voice pops their bubble, startling Regina enough that she jumps slightly, sloshing a few drops of wine onto Robin’s light blue button down.

“Last time I checked, this wasn’t a brothel,” Leroy grumbles, snatching his beer from the bartender with a scowl.

Regina shoots him a glare, but he stalks away before she can properly berate him for interrupting them. She looks at Robin’s shirt and frowns. “Sorry,” she sighs, setting her wine glass down behind her and reaching for a napkin from farther down the bar. The stretch of her arm hikes her dress up a bit higher on the one side and Robin forces his eyes heavenward to tamp down his ever-growing arousal.

“It’s alright,” he dismisses, letting her dab at the stain regardless.

“No, it’s not, you love this shirt,” Regina says, turning her glare on the pink blotches as if she can frighten them into disappearance.

“I think you mean  _ you  _ love this shirt,” Robin corrects with a smirk, remembering several times this very garment has ended up on the floor in a crumpled heap thanks to Regina’s wandering hands.

She hums smugly, abandoning the napkin on the bartop and hooking a finger between the gap of two buttons. “You’re right. I do love this shirt. So why don’t you go to the bathroom and try to save it so I can rip it off you later?”

Can’t really argue with that plan, so Robin steals a quick kiss from her lips and heads off to the bathroom to do just that.

Regina watches him as he goes, enjoying an eyeful of his ass in dark wash jeans. She glances at the clock on the wall and squeezes her thighs together. Honestly, if Will doesn’t show by the time Robin gets back from the restroom, she is transporting them home and riding him until the sun rises. The kids are, thankfully, with other keepers for the night and she has every intent to capitalize on their alone time. Maybe they’ll make a game of it- how many rooms in the house can they have sex in before they pass out? Yes, that sounds like an excellent use of a Saturday n-

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is our lovely queen alone at the bar tonight?”

Regina’s insides curl with disgust at the sound of Keith Nottingham’s slimey voice and the smell of his sickeningly sweet cologne as he sidles up beside her, taking Robin’s vacated spot.

“What do you want, Keith?” she asks flatly, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him.

“Well, I’d like to buy you a drink, but since you already have one, I’ll settle for a dance,” Nottingham purrs, leaning in close, invading her personal space.

Regina glances at him out of the corner of her eye, unimpressed. “There isn’t a dancefloor here, idiot.”

Tendrils of slime weave through her veins as she feels his gaze slide slowly up and down her body, stopping at every inappropriate place. “You don’t need a dancefloor for the horizontal mambo,” Nottingham leers, bourbon-laced breath washing against her skin.

Regina rolls her eyes and finally turns her head to glare at him. “First of all, you’re disgusting. Second of all, your pickup lines are terrible. And third of all, you have five seconds to get away from me before I turn you into a toad.”

Her threats evidently fall on deaf ears because all Nottingham does is smile. “But how can I leave a pretty lady like yourself all alone? Since Locksley apparently didn’t feel like taking you out-”

“Robin is in the bathroom,” Regina interrupts. “And if you were smart, you’d be long gone before he gets back.”

“If  _ you  _ were smart, you’d leave that shit stain for a real man. Someone who can show you a good time,” Nottingham says lecherously. He reaches out a hand and runs a finger over Regina’s bare shoulder, raising goosebumps on her skin as she fights back the urge to retch. “Someone who can make you feel good,” Nottingham continues, moving his hand to touch her hair, but before he can make contact with her dark locks, a lion tattooed-arm grabs his wrist in a vicegrip.

“I don’t believe you were given permission to touch,” Robin seethes, yanking Nottingham’s arm away from Regina with enough force to pull him off the barstool.

“Locksley,” Nottingham states with poorly concealed disdain as he straightens his shirt. “I didn’t realize I needed  _ your  _ permission to talk to the queen.”

“You don’t need mine, you need hers, and apparently, you don’t know how to take no for an answer,” Robin snaps, stepping in between them.

“Who says no was the answer I got?” Nottingham challenges, sending Regina another lustful once-over. “Everyone knows your little girlfriend’s never been afraid of having more than one man between her legs.”

Robin goes to lunge for the sheriff, but Regina throws an arm in front of his chest to stop him. “Robin, relax,” she says. “He’s not worth it.”

“Listen to the queen, mate,” Nottingham advises smugly. “We don’t want a repeat of the last time we got into a fight and a woman was involved.”

Rage fills Robin’s face so quickly Regina has no time to react before he’s pushing her aside and tackling Nottingham to the floor, knocking several people into each other and spilling drinks everywhere. “Robin!” Regina shouts in a vain attempt to stop his assault on his nemesis. Robin lands a punch on Nottingham’s nose with a sickening crunch and blood quickly covers his face as he struggles to retaliate. The crowd surrounding them gasps while Regina looks around frantically for a bouncer, the bartender, anyone to break this up. Robin goes for another hit, but Nottingham grabs his fist and yanks Robin’s arm to the side, capitalizing on the change in momentum to flip them over, smacking Robin’s back and head into the floor hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.

Regina’s hand flies to her mouth as she watches Nottingham land his own cruel punch to Robin’s teeth, knocking several loose and coating Robin’s chin in a steady stream of blood. Nottingham punches again, and again, and again, until Robin’s face is so bloody Regina can barely recognize it. Somehow, he finds the strength to flip them over again, and then his fist is the one making pulp out of Nottingham’s face, and Regina yells his name again, helpless and desperate to make it stop. Her heart is pounding, hands shaking, eyes wild because someone has to stop this, why isn’t anyone stopping this, why are they all just  _ standing  _ there-

“Enough!” a familiar voice shouts and suddenly Will is there, pushing his way through the crowd and yanking Robin off Nottingham with a strength Regina didn’t know he had. “Fuck’s sake, mate, knock it off!” he yells, holding Robin back with a forceful hand on his chest.

“He-” Robin starts, pointing angrily at Nottingham groaning on the floor.

“I don’t bloody care what he did!” Will snaps. “You want to die? ‘Cause I know you been in enough scraps with our honorable sheriff to know he won’t stop until he’s killed ya.”

Robin doesn’t answer, his messed up face contorted into a scowl as he continues to glare at Nottingham. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor, one or two teeth going along with it. 

“Alright, people, move along, nothing to see here,” Will calls to the crowd surrounding them. As they start to dwindle and turn away, Regina steps over Nottingham’s semi-unconscious body and marches right up to Will and Robin, smacking her soulmate on the chest, hard.

“Ow! That hurt!” Robin complains, a newfound lisp coloring his speech thanks to his missing teeth.

“You absolute  _ idiot,  _ Robin Locksley!” Regina shouts, smacking him again, uncaring for the moment that he most likely has a concussion and several broken bones. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do!”

“You clearly haven’t seen several  _ other  _ stupid things he’s done, then,” Will mumbles to himself.

Regina gives him a deadly glare and Will quickly excuses himself, muttering something about making sure Nottingham gets escorted from the bar. “ _ Why  _ did you do that?” Regina demands, hands going to her hips. “I told you to drop it!  **Were you even listening to me?** ”

“He-”

“I don’t care what he said!” Regina interrupts. “I don’t need you to defend my honor, Robin, and I certainly don’t need you committing assault and battery to do so.”

“That’s not what this was about,” Robin grumbles, flexing his right hand to stretch out his bloody- and probably broken- knuckles.

“Oh, it wasn’t, was it? Then please, enlighten me. Could you just not stand to see another man talking to me?”

“No,” Robin denies, eyes narrowing at her admittedly thin accusation.

“Were you mad because he touched something that belongs to you?” Regina challenges, even though she knows that’s not it, and it’s unfair to accuse Robin of treating her like a possession, because he doesn’t, and he didn’t, but something had to have set him off.

“No,” Robin snaps, scowl deepening.

“Then please, tell me what incited you to break another man’s nose because I am at a loss,” Regina orders, crossing her arms.

Robin rolls his eyes at her dramatics, but apparently that action is painful and he winces. Good. He should suffer for his stupidity. He blows out a breath and shakes his head, moving to step past her. “I am not having this conversation right now,” he mumbles, heading toward the bathroom.

Regina scoffs, shocked that he would blatantly refuse to cooperate, and spins on her heel, following him to the men’s room. “Excuse me?” she calls indignantly, grabbing his arm just before he opens the door to the restroom.

“Regina,” he sighs, all the fight having left him. “Please. Not now.”

“Yes, now,” Regina insists, catching the bathroom door and shutting it behind them. It’s a single, no stalls, no other people, just them and privacy, which should hopefully coax an answer out of him. “Robin, tell me, please-”

“He threatened you,” Robin interrupts, gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white.

Regina blinks, brow furrowing. “No, he didn’t-”

“Yes, he did,” Robin says, turning to face her. “You didn’t know it, but he did. And I… I couldn’t just  _ let  _ him…” He trails off with a shake of his head, turning the tap on and gathering water in his hands to splash on his bloody face. The sink turns pink as he cleans himself and Regina winces when she finally sees the state of his mouth and nose. Puffy, bruised, split open. She may be mad at him, but she can’t stand to see him in pain, so with a wave of her hand, purple smoke swirls around Robin’s face, healing his broken skin and bones.

Robin blinks and then presses his fingers all over his face and runs his tongue along his fixed teeth. “Thanks,” he mutters, twisting off the tap.

Regina looks at the floor, trying to remember the conversation from only minutes before. There were Nottingham’s gross comments, her repeated attempts to make him leave, Robin showing up, them almost fighting, her telling him not to fight, Nottingham crowing that they don’t want a repeat-

“Robin,” Regina says quietly, stepping closer to him, laying a hand on his arm. “What happened the last time you and Nottingham fought over a woman?”

Robin’s shoulders deflate as he exhales, his entire body sagging with the weight of whatever memory has just been conjured up. “It was a long time ago,” he whispers, avoiding her gaze.

Regina presses herself against him gingerly, running her fingers up and down his spine. “Tell me,” she murmurs, settling her hand on top of his on the sink.

Robin swallows and nods, pressing his nose into her hair to breathe her in. “I had a sister,” he starts, turning over his hand so their palms touch. “Sarah. She was a year or two younger than me. Beautiful, and kind, and brilliant. Me and my brothers, we always used to joke that she was the only one to get the good Locksley traits.”

Regina smiles against his shoulder, giving him a one-armed squeeze.

“Every man in our village wanted Sarah’s hand,” Robin continues. “Including Nottingham, but he was called Christopher back then. Sarah was never interested in any suitors, though, and most of them backed off. But Nottingham…”

“Can’t take no for an answer,” Regina supplies quietly, understanding now why Robin was so quick to defend her earlier.

Robin sighs. “He never could. So even after Sarah told him no, he kept pursuing, and pursuing, until one day she told me she was actually frightened of him, of what he might do if she turned him down one more time. And being the brash young man that I was, I figured I would take care of it the next time he came around. So when he called on her next, I showed up and tensions… escalated quickly. We got in a fight, swords and all. I somehow managed to get the upper hand and told him to leave and never come back. But before I could do anything, he took his sword and threw it. Right at Sarah.”

Regina gasps, eyes wide. “He killed her?” she whispers.

Robin nods, swallowing thickly. “Hit her right in the stomach. Because if he couldn’t have her…”

“No one could,” Regina breathes, stunned by this part of his life she had never known before. “Robin… I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”

Robin nods again, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “When Nottingham brought it up tonight, I took it as a direct threat against you. That he meant he was going to…” Robin shakes his head and pulls her in for a full embrace, both arms tight around her, pressing a long kiss to her hair.

He’s practically shaking as he holds her and Regina realizes he wasn’t jealous or angry when he lunged at Nottingham. He was scared. Terrified that she might be harmed, that he might lose her like he did Sarah. Regina exhales slowly against his shoulder, running her hands up and down his back, ghosting her fingers over the strain in his muscles. “It’s alright,” she murmurs. “I’m here, I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.”

“I know,” Robin says, nose pressed against her forehead. “I’m sorry I upset you. But I’m not sorry I punched him.”

Regina breathes out a laugh, pulling back so she can see his face. “I think you did a little more than punch him,” she reminds him. “His face looked like a cow’s intestines.”

“Good,” Robin mutters, more to himself than to her, but he smiles down at her anyway.

Regina smiles back at him and brings a thumb up to wipe away a streak of blood still coating his cheek. “You’re a mess,” she sighs, looking down at his shirt, now definitely ruined thanks to all the blood stains. Her wine stain is still on there somewhere, though it’s probably hidden by all the new pink and red splotches. “How about we go home?” Regina suggests, smiling at him a tad mischievously. “We can take a shower, get ourselves cleaned up… I can look you over, make sure there aren’t any other wounds that need healing.”

Robin smirks. “Well, when you put it like that… he did do quite a number on me. I might need a very thorough inspection.”

Regina runs a finger down the buttons of his shirt. “Of course,” she rasps, ducking in to press a sucking kiss to the side of his neck.

Robin slides his hands down to her hips, squeezing once and groaning, apparently reminding himself that she is bare beneath her dress. “I suggest you take us home before I bend you over this sink and make you scream so loud the whole bar hears,” he husks into her ear, skirting his fingers under the hem of her dress.

Wetness immediately pools between Regina’s thighs as she swallows thickly. She pulls his head down to hers for a tongue-filled kiss, clutching her fingers in his hair as he gropes and fondles her ass. She separates from him just enough to flick her wrist and transport them home in a puff of purple smoke, eager to enjoy a night with each other, and completely unaware that in the shadows lurks something that threatens to burn their happiness to the ground.

* * *

 

Monday comes around, and with it, the usual forkload of meetings, paperwork, and phone calls. “Good morning, Marie,” she sighs as she passes her secretary, a bit breathless from her scurry up the stairs. “Sorry I’m late. Roland did not want to get out of bed.”

“No problem, Mayor Mills,” Marie says, always so chipper no matter the time of day. “Your schedule’s updated for today, and I sorted through your phone messages. Just the important ones are left. Also, public works called and asked to move their meeting with you to tomorrow. I told them I’d check with you and call back.”

“Public works,” Regina repeats absently, digging through her purse to find her office keys. “What’s that meeting about again?”

“They need funding to fill in all the potholes on Main Street,” Marie answers, reading off her computer screen. “And… they have a note here requesting that no more magical battles take place on public property since they’re tired of cleaning up afterwards.”

“Oh yes, please remind me to ask the newest villain in town to confine their attacks to privately owned businesses and residences only from here on out,” Regina says, rolling her eyes. She finally finds her keys at the bottom of her purse and unlocks her office. “You can tell public works they can either meet with me today, or wait until the next city council meeting to propose an addendum to the budget.”

“Yes, Mayor Mills- oh! I almost forgot. This is for you,” Marie says, reaching across her desk and holding out a cup of coffee.

Regina walks back over from her office door, confused. “You got me coffee?” she asks, taking the cup regardless.

“No, it was sitting on my desk when I got here with a sticky note with your name on it. I do believe Mr. Locksley paid us a visit before he went to work.”

Regina hides her smile behind the coffee cup as she takes a sip. It’s not as hot as it could be, but it still hits her tongue with a bittersweetness that both wakes and calms her. He’s too good to her.

“Should I call the Parks office and send your regards?” Marie asks, failing to conceal her teasing smirk.

“No, you can call public works and tell them to kiss my ass,” Regina replies, heading back toward her office. “But make it more politically correct than that.”

“Yes, Mayor Mills,” Marie laughs as Regina shuts her door. She strides over to her desk and sets her bag down, keeping her coffee in hand as she fishes around for her cell phone. She doesn’t need Marie to send her regards to the Parks office. She can do that all on her own.

* * *

 

_ Are you hoping to earn a lasagna for dinner? _

Robin’s phone vibrates on his desk and he furrows his brow when he reads Regina’s message.

_ I’m always hoping to earn a lasagna,  _ he sends back.  _ What can I do to win such a prize? _

_ You’re off to a pretty good start already this morning,  _ is her reply, and Robin scratches his head. He hasn’t seen Regina yet today since he left before she was even awake- the Parks office opens before the Mayor’s does- so he’s at a bit of a loss over what he could have done to garner his favorite dinner. He didn’t pack her lunch, or make her breakfast, and he’s positive he didn’t start the laundry because there’s no way he’s ever touching that demon washing machine again.

_ This morning? What have I done this morning? _

It takes her a few minutes to respond and then:  _ My coffee. I really needed it thank you _

Robin stares at his phone, mouth twisted to the side as he tries to remember. He didn’t get her coffee this morning, did he? He certainly has in the past, whenever he deigns to stop by Granny’s before work, but he didn’t swing by there today because he needed to get to the office right away to deal with all the trees down from last night’s thunderstorm. And he didn’t have time after getting to the office because he had to dispatch his men to different parts around town to clear away the storm debris. So no, he didn’t get her coffee this morning, which means he’s even more confused than before.

_ I didn’t get you- _

His typing is cut off by the ringing of the office phone. He sets his own phone down, resigned to finish the conversation later, and answers the call. “Storybrooke Office of Parks and Recreation, this is Robin,” he says, clicking the button on the top of his cell phone to turn the screen off.

“Hey, Robin, it’s Emma. I need you to do me a favor.”

“Of course, what can I do for the honorable sheriff?” he asks, glancing around at the empty office suite. Days after thunderstorms are always busy, so hopefully Emma’s request doesn’t require more than one person.

“I need you to pull the security footage from one of the rental cabins in the north woods,” Emma says. “We got a call that it was broken into.”

“Broken into?” Robin echoes, typing in his password on his desktop computer, a device he is still trying to figure out. “When? Why wasn’t I told about this?”

“Last night, and I’m telling you now.”

“Someone broke in during that hurricane?” Robin asks doubtfully. He manages to bring up the right screen, but stumbles a bit in trying to select the right box to access the security cameras from the city-owned forest properties. “Did they take anything?”

“I don’t know, I’m heading out there in a minute to check it out. It was probably just someone trying to get out of the rain, but better safe than sorry,” Emma answers. “Do you want to meet me out there? It’s Cabin 4. I should be there in, like, ten minutes.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees, finally locating the right screen and frowning when it displays nothing but black fuzziness. “Alright, I think I brought up the security camera feed, but it’s just a blank screen.”

“Are you sure you’re on the right screen?” Emma asks, her smile evident in her tone.

Robin double checks where he’s clicked and nods to himself. “Yeah, I’m sure. There’s nothing, though.”

“Fuck, the storm must have disrupted the connection,” Emma groans. She sighs, frustrated. “Alright, well, let’s hope we can find something at the cabin. Meet me in ten?”

“Yep, I’ll be there.” They say their goodbyes and hang up, and Robin clicks out of the blank security feed. He scribbles a note and sticks it on John’s desk, letting him know where he’s gone, and then grabs his bag and his phone and heads out of the office, his interrupted conversation with Regina forgotten.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes into checking her email, Regina’s head starts to ache with a dull throb just behind her eye. She pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly while wishing that she had gotten more sleep last night. The thunderstorm that had shook the town was a monster, and between a crying baby, a frightened Roland, and her own jitters at the claps of thunder, she had been awake for most of the night, which does not bode well for the state of her Monday.

She lowers the brightness on her computer screen and reaches into her desk drawer for two aspirin, swallowing them down with the rest of the coffee Robin had brought her. He hasn’t responded to her text, but he’s probably very busy today with storm clean-up. It’s a wonder that he even had time to fetch her coffee in the first place. 

With her last email sent, Regina stands to throw her coffee cup away, only to be struck by a sudden wave of dizziness. She closes her eyes and grips the edge of her desk to steady herself. Oh fuck, this isn’t just a headache. This is going to be a migraine, and if the rolling of her stomach is any sign, it’s going to be a bad one. 

She swallows down the bile at the back of her throat and takes a shaky step toward the trash can, but doesn’t get very far before a pain rips up her spine, making her stagger back and knock her hip into the corner of her desk. Regina yelps in surprise and pain, accidentally dropping the coffee cup onto the floor, splattering little drops of coffee across the tile. She can’t pay attention to the mess though because the pain shoots up her back and pours into her head, blocking out every sense until the only thing she can register is a sharp throbbing that spikes down to her chest, wrapping her heart in a vice grip.

This isn’t a migraine. This is… it’s… well, she doesn’t know what it is because all she knows is that she is in excruciating pain and that she has to clench her teeth together to stop from crying out at the stabbing in her head and chest. She has to call Marie, she needs to get help-

But when she reaches for her phone, her knees buckle and then give out, sending her to the floor with another consuming wave of dizziness and nausea. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Marie,” Regina tries to shout, but it comes out like a strangled whisper. Her lungs constrict and she gasps to breathe. Is she dying? Is she having a heart attack? She wants to scream, but she can’t, she doesn’t have the breath. 

She opens her mouth again to call for Marie, then the pain in her spine flares up again, so intensely that she falls forward on her hands, her palms smacking against the tile. It spreads then, not just to her head and chest but throughout her whole body, as if every nerve is being stabbed with a knife. Dots dance across her vision, her elbows shake and then give out, and her head meets the floor with a thud. There’s movement out of the corner of her eye, and then blackness takes over.

* * *

 

“Yeah, I’m not seeing anything, are you?” Emma asks as she rounds the rear corner of the cabin.

Robin shakes his head, eyeing the wooden beams of the exterior. “No signs of a break in anywhere, and the inside is undisturbed,” he says, running a hand along the sill of the kitchen window. “I’d say your tipper was mistaken. Unless we’re dealing with ghost burglars.”

“Or the Prince of Thieves,” Emma counters with a grin. “How do I know  _ you  _ weren’t the one to break in and not leave a trace? That is your  _ modus operandi,  _ after all.”

“Alright, I confess,” Robin plays along as they make their way back to the porch. “In between soothing a crying baby and trying to get Roland back to sleep, I managed to sneak out of the house in the middle of a thunderstorm and break into this specific cabin, all without Regina noticing.”

Emma laughs, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “Maybe I should call her. Double check that alibi.” She pushes some buttons and then brings the phone to her ear. “Dad? It’s me. We didn’t find anything…”

Speaking of Regina, Robin reaches into his own pocket and pulls out his cell, unlocking it to find his interrupted conversation with her from earlier. He finishes his message ( _ I didn’t get you coffee this morning _ ) and presses send, answering a quick question from John before tucking his phone back into his pocket just as Emma finishes up with David.

“Dad said since we didn’t find anything, we should just file a report about the tip and then drop it,” she says. “If something else comes up, we can investigate more, but at this point, there’s no reason to waste our time.” 

Robin nods. “Okay. Well, since we’re out here, would you mind helping me check the security camera? I’m not exactly… handy with stuff like that.”

Emma chuckles at his sheepishness. “Sure, no problem. I think it’s hooked up somewhere over here.” She walks over to the corner of the porch and pulls open a gray panel on the wall, revealing a bunch of wires and other technological things that confuse Robin to no end. He peers over Emma’s shoulder with a furrowed brow, and is about to ask what she thinks is the matter when his phone vibrates.

He pulls it back out, expecting a response from either Regina or John, and is quite confused to find neither. Instead, he has a message that reads:  _ The number you are trying to reach is out of service.  _

John probably forgot to pay his phone bill again, Robin thinks with a sigh, bringing up his contacts to call the office phone instead, but freezing when a text from John pops up on the top bar.

If John is texting him, then his number can’t be out of service.

So then that would mean…

Robin is dialing Regina’s number in the next second. There’s no reason her phone shouldn’t be working. Her bill is obviously paid, because his is, and they’re on the same one. So unless something got messed up by mistake, her phone should be operating just fine. He brings his phone to his ear and waits as the dial tone rings once, twice-

_ I’m sorry. The number you are trying to reach is out of service. Please hang up and try again. _

Robin swallows, because it doesn’t make sense, and there is suddenly a pit of unease in his stomach. 

“Hmm… oh, there it is,” Emma says, plugging a wire into a hole. “That should do it.” She closes the gray panel and turns back to Robin. “I think I fixed it. Robin?”

“Huh?” he asks, looking up from his phone.

“A wire was loose,” Emma explains. “The camera should be working again.” She tilts her head. “You okay? You look upset.”

“Would you mind calling Regina for a second?” Robin asks. “I’m keep getting a message saying her phone is out of service.”

“Yeah, sure,” Emma agrees, pulling hers back out. She dials, waits, and then frowns as she listens to the same automated message Robin had gotten. “Huh. Why don’t you call the office? A cell tower might have gone out last night. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Yeah… probably,” Robin mutters, mostly to himself. He dials the number for the mayor’s office and after two rings, Marie picks up.

“Mayor Mills’ office, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Marie, it’s Robin,” he says. “Is Regina there?”

“She is… but it looks like she’s on the phone right now. I can put you on hold, if you want, and send her an email so she knows you’re waiting.”

“No, no, that’s okay. I just wanted to make sure she was alright,” Robin explains. “I kept getting an error message when I tried to call her cell.”

“Oh, that’s probably the spotty service we have in this building,” Marie says. “I drop calls on my cell all the time when I’m here. Should I have Mayor Mills call you back when she’s free?”

“That would be great,” Robin sighs, hating to take time out of her day like that, but needing some reassurance for his own sake. “Whenever she has a second is fine.”

“Okay, I’ll pass the message along.”

“Thanks, Marie.”

Robin hangs up and pockets his phone, nodding when Emma asks if everything is alright, despite feeling an inkling at the bottom of his spine that something is actually very wrong.

* * *

 

Consciousness returns slowly and painfully, every muscle, bone, and nerve aching as Regina comes to. Her eyelids feel heavy, like boulders are pressing down on each of them. She’s laying down, she can tell that at least, a cold surface pressing against her cheek and right side. She groans and forces her eyes open, blinking repeatedly as her vision spins, blurs, and then finally clears.

She’s not in her office anymore.

A wooden wall spans her field of vision, bare and dark, little light filling whatever room she’s in. The floor that she’s laying on is wooden as well, cold and unyielding beneath her.

What the hell happened?

She tries to move her arms to sit up, but they won’t budge. She tries again and that’s when she realizes- her wrists are tied together behind her back. Dread and fear settle in her stomach, heart rate picking up as she twists and turns her arms, skin chafing against the several layers of rope tied tightly around her wrists and forearms. Her pulse pounds in her ears as she tries to magick the ropes away, but no purple smoke appears, no knots are loosened, and the panic in her chest increases tenfold as her magic does not come.

Regina swallows thickly, throat dry, tongue heavy, as she awkwardly pushes herself up into a sitting position, head spinning wildly. She closes her eyes for a few seconds and waits for the dizziness to pass. When she opens them, she looks around, staring dumbly at the bare wooden walls surrounding her. There are no windows, no furniture, the sole source of light coming from the fluorescent on the ceiling. Where the hell is she?

She looks down at herself then. Her blazer and shoes are gone, but her blouse and skirt are still on. Wrinkled and slightly askew, but still on. 

“Oh God,” she groans as a hard wave of nausea washes over her, her vision swirling and blurring again. Something was in her coffee, and whatever is was, packed a powerful punch. Her stomach pitches and rolls, and just when she thinks she’s actually going to vomit, the sound of a door opening behind her snaps her to attention, her instincts forcing the nausea to cease.

“Well, well, looks like sleeping beauty has finally woken up.”

Regina’s stomach drops at the sound of the voice, her heartbeat picking back up as she twists around to look at her captor. “Nottingham,” she hisses, glaring at the man as he saunters across the room.

“Your majesty,” he says with a smarmy grin, crouching down in front of her. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Untie me,” Regina snaps, struggling against her bonds.

“Mm, no. I don’t think so.” He reaches out and grabs her chin, pulling her head toward him. “Not when you look so lovely all tied up for me.”

Regina resists the urge to shiver at his slimy tone and shakes her chin free, giving him her best evil queen stare. “If you don’t let me go, right now, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Continue to sit there and struggle?” Nottingham goads, smiling knowingly. “You can’t get free. Your magic’s gone. No easy escape for you, Madam Mayor.” 

Regina narrows her eyes. “What did you put in my coffee?”

“A little potion I found,” he answers dismissively. “Something that renders a magic wielder completely useless.”

_ Mortals’ Blood _ , Regina thinks, or perhaps something with squid ink. Either way, her magic won’t be returning for a while. “And where did an idiot such as yourself find something like that?”

“That old mansion out in the woods,” Nottingham answers. “There are rooms filled with useful things. Like the potion in your coffee, and the spell that made this room soundproof.”

Regina’s stomach sinks further as she curses herself silently. Clearing out the Sorcerer’s Mansion had been on her to-do list for months and she kept putting it off. Now it seems she’s paying for it. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little bit frightened, but she’s the queen, damnit, she doesn’t show fear. Instead, she tilts her head and rolls her eyes. “Typical. A lowlife like you  _ would  _ have to steal magic to get your dirty work done. Can’t do anything for yoursel-”

He slaps her across the face. Hard. Her eyes cross for a moment before she regains her bearings, her cheek  burning and tingling as a red handprint begins to form on her skin.

“And a lowlife like you  _ would  _ hit a woman for talking back,” Regina baits, murder in her eyes. 

Nottingham’s face twists into a snarl as his hand shoots out and grabs her around the neck, fingers squeezing just enough that she has to gasp for breath. He leans in close, only an inch or so between his face and hers. “By the time I’m through with you, you’ll have suffered so much more than a just simple smack,” he growls, clenching his fingers around her neck for several long moments before letting her go with a shove. He stands and heads for the door, ignoring Regina’s shuddering breaths as she tries to refill her lungs. He yanks open the door, but turns back for a second. “Don’t go anywhere,” he chuckles sadistically. “We’re just getting started.”

Regina flinches as the door slams shut and closes her eyes when she hears it lock.

Well, fuck.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OQ Angst Fest Day 2 (Saturday) using prompts 2 (Leave me alone) and 35 (You're going to make yourself sick).
> 
> TW for some abusive language

It feels silly to worry. It’s just another workday, another day where Regina is probably busy running this town, too busy to ease his fretting with a phone call. Aside from her phone being out of service, there is nothing at all to signal that something is wrong.

And yet, Robin cannot help but think that there is.

He had waited until noon. Lunch time. Waited to see if she would call when she got a spare moment or when she finally let herself eat halfway through the day. But the twelve o’clock hour had come and gone without a peep from her and now it’s nearing one thirty and Robin just can’t take it anymore. He needs to know she is okay, even if it makes him seem ridiculous or overprotective. There is a knot in his stomach that just won’t untangle and it’ll only get bigger until he hears her voice telling him she’s fine.

So that’s why he’s climbing the stairs of city hall, taking two at a time, all the while telling himself that everything is okay.

Marie greets him with her usual cheeriness (it amazes him sometimes that Regina elects to keep such a… peppy secretary). “Hi, Robin, how are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” he says even though he feels very far from fine. “Is Regina in?”

“Yes, is she expecting you? Lunch date?” Marie asks, picking up the phone receiver. 

“No, actually, she’s not expecting me, but I haven’t heard from her since I called this morning and… well, I’d just like to see her, if she’s free please.”

“Sure, not a problem. She doesn’t have a meeting until 2 today,” Marie explains, her smile dipping into a frown the longer she holds the phone to her ear. “Huh. She didn’t pick up. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Let me go check.”

Robin should wait by Marie’s desk. He knows that. There’s no reason for him to barge his way into Regina’s day. No reason at all. But he has always had an overprotective streak, so he follows Marie down the hallway to Regina’s door.

“Mayor Mills?” Marie calls as she knocks on the glass. “Mr. Locksley is here to see you.”

Silence is the response. A few seconds pass, dread working its way up Robin’s spine, then Marie knocks again. “Mayor Mills? Are you in there?”

Still no answer. 

“She should be in there,” Marie murmurs. “I haven’t seen her leave all day.”

One more second of silence is all it takes for Robin’s worry to get the better of him and he knocks on the door himself. “Regina?” he says, doing his best to keep the tension out of his voice. “It’s me. Are you alright?”

The silence he gets in response is deafening. “You’re sure she’s in there?” he asks Marie, just slightly accusatory.

Marie nods. “She hasn’t come out since she arrived this morning. She didn’t have any meetings or appointments anywhere.”

Robin grits his teeth to quell his panicked frustration. He just needs to  _ see  _ her, damnit. Then he’ll know she’s alright. He tries the doorknob only to find it locked which is only more concerning. Regina never locks her office door (their occasional lunchtime rendez-vous being the sole exception). Undeterred, Robin reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pins, crouching down in front of the lock.

“What are you doing?” Marie asked incredulously. “You can’t  _ pick  _ the  _ mayor’s  _ lock.”

“Then call the sheriff on me,” Robin mutters as he fiddles with the pins, a bit clumsy in his haste. Something is wrong. He  _ knows  _ it now, more than just a feeling. He needs to see Regina. Now.

The tumblers in the lock click open and Robin turns the knob, standing quickly as he pushes open the door. “Regina? Regina, are you-” He stops mid-sentence, eyes flitting frantically around the room, and seeing no sign of Regina, aside from her laptop on her desk and a spilled coffee cup on the floor. He spins around on Marie who stands hesitantly in the doorway.

“I thought you said she hasn’t left her office,” he accuses, blood pressure rising by the second.

“She… she hasn’t,” Marie swears, shaking her head. “I’ve been at my desk all day, and she hasn’t left.”

Robin turns back around and crosses the room to Regina’s desk. Her purse is still in the bottom drawer, her papers and pens still scattered across the top, her cell phone-

Robin swallows thickly as he crouches down by the chair, hands shaking as he lifts the shattered remains of what had been Regina’s cell phone. The screen, the battery, the frame, all smashed and twisted beyond repair. A heavy ball of lead drops into Robin’s stomach and stays there. 

He stands and holds the destroyed phone up for Marie to see.

Her eyes widen. “Is that-”

Robin nods, pulse pounding loudly in his ears. “Call Emma.”

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t know how much time has passed since she woke up, but hours seems like a good estimate. There’s no clock anywhere, and no windows, so she can’t really judge the passage of time, but her arms and hands have gone completely numb by now, so it’s definitely been a good bit since Nottingham tied her up.

Ugh, Nottingham. Just the thought of the slimeball has her shuddering. In normal circumstances, she wouldn’t be afraid of him, but now without her magic, with no idea where she is or what he wants, she feels incredibly vulnerable to him. And that’s a feeling she had hoped to leave behind in her first marriage.

She doesn’t know what he plans to get out of this, taking her hostage and everything, but surely he can’t expect his little stunt to go unnoticed. Robin and Henry will be concerned when she’s not home for dinner, and Marie will probably go looking for her when she hasn’t emerged for her two o’clock meeting. Nottingham might not be as stupid as she thought, but he still hasn’t thought of everything. They’ll be looking for her soon enough.

Her cheek still stings a bit from where he struck her. Her throat is less sore from the choking, but her lungs scream just a little too much if she takes a too big breath. Nothing she can’t handle. Certainly nothing she hasn’t experienced before-

The door swings open just then and Nottingham comes swaggering back into the room, a pleased little grin on his face. “Miss me?” he asks, crouching down in front of her.

“As much as I miss a piece of gum stuck to my shoe,” Regina deadpans, rolling her eyes in disgust.

“Mm, cheeky as ever I see,” Nottingham mocks, dropping his smile in favor of a glare. “Let’s see if we can do something about that…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade, flipping open the knife with practiced ease.

Regina’s heart leaps into her throat, but she forces her detached demeanor to remain intact. “Oh, are you finally going to cut these insipid ropes and let me go? How kind of you, really.”

Nottingham ignores her as he looks her up and down, tapping the handle of the blade in thought. “Hmm, let’s see… which part of you would be most effective? Where to start, where to start…”

Regina scrunches herself up slightly, that slimy feeling returning as he appraises her like a piece of meat. 

“Hmm… ah, yes, I do believe right here…” He reaches out his free hand, toward the buttons on her shirt, and Regina sees red, instinct taking over as she shoots out a leg to kick him, nearly making contact with his stomach but he catches her ankle at the last second. 

His grip tightens as he scowls at her, leaning in closer. “Don’t make me tie your feet, bitch. Keeping your legs together might be a challenge for you, but try your best.”

“Get your hands off me,” Regina seethes, pulling her ankle free from his grasp. “Touch me again and I’ll-”

“You won’t do anything if you want to live,” Nottingham threatens. “One wrong move, and this knife will slip into a very important artery.”

“Do it then,” Regina challenges. “Go ahead and kill me. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to die?”

Nottingham chuckles lowly. “Oh no, you majesty, I don’t want to kill you.” He grabs her jaw, fingers digging into her skin. “I just want to watch you bleed.” At that, he pulls open the top button on her blouse, exposing her collarbone and the few inches of skin below it. 

Regina twists in his grasp, unable to do much but struggle. “Leave me alone. I swear to god-”

She doesn’t get to finish. Her voice dies in her throat as the knife digs into the skin of her chest, a sharp, searing pain that takes her breath away. She expects him to go deeper, to drive the knife through muscle and bone, but he stops at the skin, shallow enough to hurt (and oh god, does it hurt, her nerves are on  _ fire)  _ but not enough to kill her. 

Nottingham chuckles at her struggle to keep from screaming, her teeth clamped so tightly against her bottom lip that she fears she will make herself bleed there too. “You can scream if you want to,” he whispers into her ear as he draws the knife down, down, down her skin until pulling it away. “No one’s going to hear you anyway.” 

The knife bites into flesh again, sending the same shock of biting pain through her body as it slices a path across her chest. She won’t scream, though. She  _ will not  _ scream. She will not give him that satisfaction.

He draws the knife through her skin one more time and then he pushes her back, her head knocking hard against the wall behind her. She’s breathing heavily, the sharpness of the cuts morphing into a burning sting that radiates throughout her entire body. Her eyes are squeezed shut as she tries to regain her bearings, white dots bursting behind her eyelids. 

Then there’s a soft “click” and Regina opens her eyes just in time to see Nottingham tucking a phone into his pocket, looking much too pleased with himself. He smirks at her and runs a finger down her chest, ghosting over the cuts. “Has anyone ever told you red is a good color on you?”

“Go to hell,” Regina grits out through clenched teeth, shaking his hand off.

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Nottingham says as he stands. “But not until I’m through with you.” He smacks her across the face again, and white spots burst in Regina’s eyes once more. “See you in a little while,” he promises and heads for the door.

Regina waits until it’s shut and locked to look down at herself, trying to make out what he cut into her chest. It takes a moment, but when she deciphers what he’s written, she has to force herself not to vomit.

* * *

 

Robin is pacing. Hurriedly, frantically. Back and forth across the floor of the sheriff’s station, mind whirling as fear grips his chest. 

They don’t know where Regina is. She is nowhere to be found and they have looked  _ everywhere.  _ As soon as Marie called Emma, the search was on. Between Robin, Emma, and David, they covered nearly all of Storybrooke in a few hours, and there was not a single sign of Regina. It’s after four o’clock now, and he hasn’t heard from her since this morning. Hasn’t seen her since this morning. Hasn’t touched her since this morning, and the panic he’s been trying to manage all afternoon is starting to reach its boiling point.

Robin spins around to continue his pacing path when Emma stands from her desk.

“You need to stop that,” she says firmly, hands on her hips. “Pacing and worrying is not going to find Regina.”

“Then what do you propose I do?” Robin argues, stopping in front of her desk. “We’ve looked everywhere and have yet to find her. We haven’t heard anything. No one has seen her or knows where she could be. We have no leads on who is behind this. I have to keep moving or else I’ll go mad.”

“Okay, but remember to breathe,” Emma concedes. “You’re going to make yourself sick with worry and then you’ll be no help to any of us, least of all Regina.”

Robin stops pacing with a sigh, sinking down into David’s vacant chair and resting his face in his hands. “I can’t help it,” he mutters. “I just… I need to find her. What if she’s hurt? What if… ” He shakes his head, unable to bare the thought.

“Regina is going to be fine,” Emma assures him. “She’s tough, you know that. Whatever’s going on, she’ll be fine. And we’ll find her. I promise.”

Robin nods dismally as he stares out the window. There are few places left to search, and the more time passes, the smaller their chances are of finding her unscathed. Someone did something to her, forced her to go somewhere against her will. Their earlier conversation about coffee makes sense now, thanks to Marie. Someone had left Regina coffee before Marie arrived that morning, and they both just assumed it was from Robin since he has been known to pick up a cup for her before work. That coffee contained some powerful magic. Emma had waved her hand over the bit of splatter on the floor and grimaced immediately. Apparently whatever magic was in there was particularly “nasty.” She didn’t know exactly what it was, but she knew it was not good.

Their list of suspects is… long, to say the least. Who knows the number of people who want to exact revenge on the former evil queen? Emma’s initial sweep of the office had turned up no clues, aside from the phone and the coffee, leaving them at a puzzling dead end. With every minute that passes, Robin’s frustration and worry multiple exponentially. 

“Have you heard anything from David?” he asks, not allowing himself to hope.

“No, he hasn’t called me yet,” Emma answers, reaching for her phone. “Has he called you?”

Robin shakes his head and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen and looking away before doing a double take. There’s a notification on his lock screen, but the number is blocked. Frowning, Robin unlocks his phone and opens his messages. He taps on the one from the blocked number and nearly throws up at the picture that opens.

It’s Regina, eyes closed, sitting against a wall, a pained expression on her face. Her arms are behind her back and her shirt slightly unbuttoned. 

What makes all the color drain from Robin’s face, however, is the bloody letter N carved into her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be 3 chapters, but it's going to be four or five now. I kept adding things I wasn't originally planning on, per the usual. 
> 
> This chapter uses prompt 42- It's not your fault and prompt 47- Is that blood?
> 
> TW for violence, abuse, abusive language, attempted rape (he doesn't get far though, don't worry)

“Is that… oh god, that’s blood,” Emma gasps as she stares and stares at the picture on Robin’s phone.

“Yes, blood from the fucking letter N  _ carved  _ onto her  _ skin,”  _ Robin growls, fists clenched so tightly his entire hands are white. “I’m going to kill Nottingham. I’m going to take whatever knife he used to do this and drive it through his skull.”

“We don’t know Nottingham is behind this yet,” Emma reminds him, setting his phone down.

Robin scoffs. “Like hell we don’t. The picture was sent to  _ me  _ and in case you forgot, there is an N  _ carved  _ on Regina’s  _ chest,”  _ he says incredulously. “It’s Nottingham. I know it is.”

Emma sits down in her chair, mouth twisted in thought. “Why would Nottingham do this? Why go after Regina?”

“Because he’s a psychopathic bastard, that’s why!” Robin shouts, furious that Emma won’t just believe him. “He was creeping all over her at the bar over the weekend, and he threatened her because she turned him down! He killed my sister for rejecting him and now he’s… he’s  _ marked  _ Regina as his! He’s a sick fuc and you could not possibly say anything that would make me think he is not the one doing this!”

Emma holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, I believe you. We don’t have any other leads anyway. I’m going to try to unblock this number on your phone and then see if we can trace the location of where he sent it. That might lead us to wherever he’s keeping Regina.”

She reaches for Robin’s phone, but before she even enters the passcode, the screen lights up with an incoming call. From a blocked number.

“Um, you might want to answer this,” Emma says, holding the phone out to Robin.

His stomach drops as he takes the phone. There can be no good reason for Nottingham calling. He swallows heavily and slides his thumb to answer, tapping the speaker button so Emma can hear. “Hello?” he ventures cautiously.

A satisfied chuckle is the response.

“Hello, Locksley.”

“Nottingham,” Robin grits out, teeth clenched. “You fucking bastard, what have you done to Regina?”

“Oh, nothing yet,” Nottingham answers dismissively. “At least, nothing more than what you’ve already seen.”

“Where is she?” Robin demands. “Tell me right now or I’ll-”

“Oh, I don’t need to tell you where she is, I can show you,” he interrupts, the sound of heavy boots going down stairs echoing in the background. “There’s someone who wants to see you, your majesty.”

A second of silence passes and then Robin’s screen changes into a video call, Nottingham’s smug face filling the frame. “Ooh, someone looks angry,” he taunts with a smile as he leans down. There’s movement in the corner of the screen followed by an audible wince. The camera flips around then to show Regina kneeling on the floor, arms still behind her back, her head jerked up by Nottingham’s tight grip in her hair. The cuts on her chest are slightly hidden, but the bright red of the blood is jarring. “Say hello to your precious little girlfriend, Locksley.”

“Regina,” Robin says, horrified yet relieved to see her alive. “Are you alright?”

“Robin, whatever he wants, don’t give it to him,” she implores, ignoring his question. “Don’t let him-”

Nottingham twists his hand in her hair and she cuts off her sentence with a gasp, eyes squeezing shut. “Shut up,” Nottingham growls. “He’s going to give me exactly what I want because he’s going to do anything to save you, bitch.” The camera flips back around on Nottingham’s face. “Isn’t that right, Locksley?”

Robin clenches his jaw, the muscles in his cheeks and neck flexing. “What do you want?”

“No, Robin, don’t-”

Regina’s plea is interrupted by a sickening smack as Nottingham’s arm shoots out to hit her off screen. 

“Don’t touch her!” Robin shouts, hand reaching out subconsciously to grab at Nottingham.

“I told you to shut up,” he snaps at Regina. “Don’t say another word.” Nottingham turns his attention back to Robin, all pretense dropped. “I want you, Locksley. I want you to come face me like a man. And then we’ll see who wins, once and for all.”

Under normal circumstances, Robin would recognize the bait and trap for what it is, would twist the sheriff’s game to gain the upper hand. But it’s not normal circumstances and that bastard has Regina, is  _ hurting  _ Regina, and Robin can’t focus on much else. So against his clouded better judgement, Robin immediately replies, “Fine, where?”

Nottingham chuckles. “That’s for you to figure out. Find out where I’m keeping your lovely Regina before the end of the day, and you and I will have it out. For good.”

“And if I don’t find you?” Robin asks, bracing himself for the inevitable.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to find her body instead.” The camera flips back around on Regina and Nottingham grabs her face roughly, pulling her toward the camera. “In the meantime, the missus and I are going to have some fun together. You have until midnight, Locksley.”

Regina’s wide eyes are the last thing Robin sees before the video cuts out, leaving him to stare at his reflection on the screen as a helpless, angry feeling floods his veins. He clenches his fingers around his phone, resisting the overwhelming urge to smash it to pieces. 

“Fuck.”

He looks up at the sound of Emma’s voice, slightly surprised. He’d almost forgotten she was there. 

“What do we do?” Robin asks, completely lost. “We have to find her. I can’t… we  _ need  _ to find her. He’ll kill her if we don’t.”

“I’m thinking he’s going to kill  _ you _ if we do,” Emma says, crossing her arms. “This isn’t just a stupid bar fight anymore. He means business.”

“So do I,” Robin snaps. “When we find Regina, I won’t stop until that bastard is dead. Even if it kills me, I’m going to kill him first.”

“Okay, let’s not plan on getting killed,” Emma advises, sitting down at her desk. “First things first, we need to find Regina. Did you see any part of the room they were in? I couldn’t see that well.”

Robin shakes his head. “No, it was dark, and he didn’t move the camera around much.”

“Any sounds in the background that might give us a hint?”

“I think I heard him going down the stairs before he turned the video on, and then a door opening,” Robin sighs, sinking down into David’s chair.

“Safe to assume he’s got her in a basement somewhere,” Emma comments, typing on the computer. “It’d have to be somewhere private, somewhere that wouldn’t get a lot of attention.” 

Robin exhales loudly, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He’s helpless, so fucking helpless, and Regina  _ needs  _ him. A wave of guilt punches him in the stomach then because she wouldn’t need him if it weren’t for, well, him. If Nottingham wasn’t using her to get to him. He’s the reason she’s being abused right now and Robin hates himself for it.

Emma types a few more things into the computer and then reaches for her phone. “I’m going to send David and Killian to search Nottingham’s house. See if they can find any clues.” She presses the button to call her father and brings the phone to her ear, frowning at Robin’s forlorn expression.

“Hey, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not your fault,” she says gently.

Robin gives her an unconvinced look. “She wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me.”

“No, don’t do that. Do not blame yourself,” Emma insists. “This is on Nottingham. Completely. Regina does not blame you, I promise.”

Robin doesn’t answer as he stares blankly out the window. Regina might not blame him for this, but that doesn’t alleviate an ounce of the guilt coursing through him. She’s suffering, and it’s all because of him. And if she dies… Robin shakes his head, unable to continue the thought. 

He needs to find her.

* * *

 

She’s almost forgotten what having feeling in her arms is like. From shoulder to fingertip, it’s completely numb. An odd sensation, not being able to feel a good bit of your body. She tries to flex her fingers, but can’t tell if she’s succeeded, and moving her wrists or elbows at all is completely out of the question. She has a passing thought that maybe her fine motor skills will be impaired after this. Prolonged absence of blood flow can’t be good for any body part, least of all the hands and fingers. She just hopes she can still type, can still write with a pen. She can’t do her job if she can’t do those things. 

It’s been maybe an hour or so since Nottingham came stomping in here, mocking Robin over the phone, forcing him into an ill-fated meeting between them. Robin’s not thinking clearly, he can’t be if he agreed to face Nottingham in what will no doubt lead to one of their deaths. Nottingham’s out to kill Robin anyway, and Robin won’t let him live after the stunt he’s pulled today. It makes Regina’s stomach hurt to think that Robin might be charging headfirst into his death, all because he needs to save her. 

Meanwhile she can’t do a single thing about it because of her fucking magic being gone and these fucking  _ ropes.  _ God, these ropes are going up in flames the second her magic comes back ( _ if  _ her magic comes back, before it’s too late).

She’s just about to try twisting her arms again when the door opens and Nottingham comes strolling in, one hand behind his back. That can’t be good.

Nottingham tsks as he squats down in front of her. “Locksley still hasn’t found you yet. I must say, I’m a bit surprised. I’d have expected him to be here by now.”

“Count your blessings that you get to stay alive a little bit longer,” Regina mutters, flipping her hair out of her face. “The moment he gets here, you’re a dead man.”

“Mm, we’ll see about that,” Nottingham says lowly, pulling his hand out from behind his back to reveal a short pole about two feet long with two metal prongs on the end. Regina’s stomach goes hot and then cold as she recognizes the device- an electric cattle prod.

“But while we wait for Locksley to show up, I thought we could play a little game,” Nottingham purrs, running the tip of the prod down Regina’s calf.

She swallows, her entire body tensing. “I don’t think I know this game,” she deflects, pulling her legs in tight to her chest. 

“Oh, it’s simple, really,” Nottingham replies, leaning in close. “You just have to do everything I say… or else.” He turns a switch on the bottom of the handle and the prod surges to a life, an electric hum accompanying the thin current now connecting the two prongs. “Understand?”

Regina sucks in a shaky breath. “I don’t think I want to play.”

“Tough. Let’s start with something easy. Smile for me.”

She grimaces. “No.”

An electric shock shoots up her side as Nottingham presses the prod to her hip, stealing the air from her lungs and making her heart stop for a second. She should have seen it coming, but she didn’t, and she lets out a surprised cry of pain. The distinct smell of something burning fills the air and she doesn’t have to look down to know there’s a scorch mark on her skirt. 

“Your not very good at this game, your majesty,” he growls, grabbing her jaw with his free hand. “I said… smile.”

Regina continues to glare at him, mouth tipped down into an obstinate frown. “Fuck you.”

Nottingham narrows his eyes and jabs the prod into her side, sending another shooting pain throughout her torso. She’s ready for it this time, though, and bites back her scream, gritting her teeth together hard.

“This would be much easier for you if you just cooperated,” Nottingham says, trailing the edge of the prod down her cheek, the electricity sparking just a few millimeters from her skin. “It’d be a shame to mark such a pretty face over something so avoidable.”

Regina doesn’t dare move as the prod makes a slow descent down her cheek and around her jaw, ghosting past her pulse point. 

“All you have to do is smile for me,” Nottingham reminds her, the end of the prod hovering over her collarbone. “Just one little smile. I’m sure you smile for Locksley all the time, don’t you?”

_ That elusive yet satisfying smile I think about every time I close my eyes,  _ Robin’s voice echoes in her mind. She only smiles that way for Robin, and she’ll be damned if this bastard forces it out of her. “You can poke me all you want,” Regina says darkly, her breath a bit labored, “but I’m not your  _ dog.  _ I won’t lie down and beg.”

Nottingham scowls, his fingers digging deeper into her skin as he tightens his hold on her jaw. “We’ll see about that,” he whispers. A second passes and then he jams the prod into her neck, forcing a scream past her lips as he holds the prod there for several long seconds until her spine arches, pulling the prod back just before she starts to convulse.

Regina’s whole body tingles and sparks as she takes gulping breaths, coughing as she shakes in aftershock. Her mind is spinning, and suddenly she’s back in the cannery by the dock, strapped to a metal table with wires pressed to her body, Greg’s maniacal face looming above her as he cranks up the voltage and reaches for the switch.

She blinks and breathes, and she’s back in this godforsaken room, no metal table, no electrocution machine, just Nottingham and his fucking cattle prod, smiling as he leers at her. “I think it’s time we check in with Locksley, don’t you?” he asks, turning off the prod and standing. “Don’t go anywhere.” And as always, he slaps her across the face before he leaves.

Only after the door shuts, does Regina let a lone tear slip down her face.

* * *

 

Robin’s phone rings just as he’s pushing open the door of the sheriff’s station, and his stomach twists when he sees the blocked number. “What do you want, Nottingham?” he barks after accepting the call.

“Ooh, angry are we?” comes the chuckling response, ever smug and cocky. “I take it your search isn’t going well?”

“What do you want?” Robin asks again, hurrying down the hallway to the squadroom. “Unless you’re showing me Regina, I don’t give a damn about what you have to say.”

“Well, I would let you see her, but she’s in a bit of a mood right now. I couldn’t even get a smile out of her.”

His tone makes Robin queasy and he has to take a steadying breath. “What are you doing to her? If you hurt her anymore, I swear-“

“Oh, relax,” Nottingham interrupts. “We were just playing a little game. She lost. You know, she has a nice scream. I could listen to it all day.”

Robin grits his teeth together so hard he thinks they might crack. “When I find you, I’m going to stick an arrow in every part of your body except for your heart so you can beg me for death,” he threatens, voice low and dangerous. “And I will happily oblige.”

“We’ll see about that,” Nottingham says darkly. “You have five hours left. Tick tock.”

The line goes dead and Robin shoves his phone forcefully into his pocket. Nottingham’s wrong- he has four hours, fifty-two minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. His brain has been counting down all day and with every passing second, he grows more and more worried.

“Tell me you found something,” Robin practically begs as he turns the corner into the squadroom.

Emma and David both look up from studying a large sheet of paper on her desk, apprehension on their faces. “We did…” Emma says uncertainly. “Or, well, Dad and Killian did, but we’re not-”

Robin grabs the sheet of paper off the desk and runs his eyes over it anxiously. “What is this? Blueprints?”

“Yeah, we found them in Nottingham’s house,” David explains. “We think that might be where he’s keeping Regina.”

Robin studies the lines and markings on the sheet, brow furrowed. He’s not an expert at reading blueprints, but this layout looks vaguely familiar. In fact, it looks an awful lot like-

“Cabin 4,” Robin states suddenly, looking up at Emma. “This is the layout of Cabin 4, the one that was broken into last night.”

Emma chews on her bottom lip. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. I guess someone broke in after all.”

Robin tosses the paper back on the desk. “Then what the hell are we waiting for? Come on, we don’t have much time left.”

Emma and David exchange a wary look, an unspoken concern passing between them.

“What?” Robin asks impatiently. They’re down to four hours, forty-eight minutes, thirteen seconds.

“Robin… we’re not sure you should go with us,” Emma says carefully.

He scowls, incredulous. “Like hell I’m not,” he snaps. “That bastard is hurting Regina. I am not sitting around on my arse while he tortures her.”

“The only reason he’s doing this is because he wants to kill you,” David reminds him. “Regina is just the bait to get you there. You’re the target, and if you come with us, then he might kill you.”

“No, I’m going to kill him first,” Robin argues, fists clench. “After I gouge his eyes out and break his fingers one by one.”

Emma shakes her head. “That’s another thing. We need to focus on rescuing Regina and apprehending Nottingham. Not revenge.”

“You don’t think I can do both?”

“I’m worried you won’t be able to.”

Robin runs his hand down his face in frustration. “Look, I’m not going to lie- I want Nottingham dead. Whether it’s by my hand or someone else’s, he needs to die. But Regina is my priority. I cannot stand around and wait, not when I know she is being hurt because of me. If it were Killian, or Snow, would you want to stay here while other people try to rescue them?”

Another look passes between father and daughter, reluctant acceptance on their faces.

“Alright, you can come,” Emma concedes. “But focus number one is Regina. Nottingham comes after, got it?”

Robin nods because of course, Regina is and always will be his top concern. As long as she’s safe, he can deal with anything else later.

But if Nottingham happens to be severely injured in the rescuing process, well, that’s just icing on the cake.

* * *

 

“Which part of your body will make Locksley the angriest when I cut it off and send it to him?” Nottingham wonders as he paces slowly around the room.

Regina stays silent, staring straight ahead as she has for the last half hour, ever since he hung up the phone. She won’t give into his baiting, will not give him the satisfaction of seeing her uncomfortable. 

“An ear?” Nottingham continues, ignoring her silence. “A finger? Oh, a toe or foot maybe? Tell me, is Locksley a foot man?”

“Why do you want to know? Hoping to try out some fantasies?” Regina taunts, unable to help herself.

Nottingham glares at her and points the tip of his knife in her direction. “Actually, I think your tongue will do quite nicely.”

Regina rolls her eyes and ignores him again, focusing on her worry instead. Robin is going to find her, she knows he is, he won’t rest until he does, and that is what frightens her. Nottingham is not going to let Robin out of here alive, and in his haste to rescue her, he might not even realize the danger he’s walking into. Regina can handle being hit around and slapped, but she can’t stomach the thought of Robin being harmed as he tries to save her. She’d rather die than let him be killed for her.

Nottingham stops his pacing and crouches down in front of her, grinning smugly. “You know, once Locksley is nice and dead, you and I are going to spend some quality time together. And I’ll get to enjoy…” His eyes run up and down her body slowly as he licks his lips. “ _ Everything  _ you have to offer.”

“You’re disgusting,” Regina hisses, pulling her legs back and away from him. 

“Mm, yes, and soon you’ll find out just how disgusting I can be,” he purrs, leaning in close to her neck and inhaling deeply. 

Regina squeezes her eyes shut, forcing away the memory of both Rumple and Leopold doing the exact same thing. She wants to take a day-long shower. Two of them. With scalding hot water. She wants Nottingham to die in a ditch and burn in hell. She wants her arms untied and the blood to return to her limbs. But most of all, she just wants Robin. She wants his gentle touch and his soft kisses and his soothing voice. She wants all of him. But then again, she doesn’t want Robin because if Robin is here, then that means he could very well die. And that is the last thing she wants.

“Or maybe, we don’t have to wait for Locksley to be dead.”

Regina freezes when she feels the cold steel of Nottingham’s knife press against her neck, his breath blowing on her ear, He trails the blade slowly down the center of her chest, over where he marked her, making her flinch. The knife heads for the next button on her blouse, and Regina starts to panic.

“Lay a single finger on me, and I’ll burn you alive,” she threatens, trying to twist away from him to no avail.

Nottingham only chuckles. “Not until your magic returns, and that won’t be for awhile. Plenty of time for me have my way.”

He continues his descent to the next button and Regina does the only thing she can think of. She rears her head back and then crashes it into Nottingham’s temple. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, staggering back a few feet. “You stupid bitch!”

Regina tries to stand up, tries to force her hands and fingers to support her weight as her legs push against the ground. But she’s numb from sitting for so long, and uncoordinated, and Nottingham only needs a few seconds to recover before he’s grabbing her by the hair and throwing her to the floor. Her skull cracks against the wood, stars bursting in her vision as Nottingham presses a knee into her abdomen. He bends over top of her until they’re nose to nose, his breath hot as it washes over her face. 

“You fucking whore,” he seethes, grabbing her by the neck. “I should just kill you and be done with it.”

“Then do it,” Regina sneers, struggling for breath. “I dare you.”

Nottingham clenches his fingers tighter around her throat until spots dot her eyes and then he lets go, bringing his knife to her neck instead. “No, I think I’ll just make you bleed some more until you can’t fight back.”

He goes to press the knife into her skin when a thump from upstairs makes him freeze. 

They both look up at the ceiling for a moment, and then Nottingham looks back down at her with an eager grin. “Looks like Locksley found us after all.” 

“No!” Regina cries as he pushes off her and stands, heading for the stairs. “Don’t hurt him! Please!”

But her pleas go unanswered as Nottingham climbs the steps, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
